


Tickle

by Poppets



Series: Roswell Drabbles [2]
Category: Roswell (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Humor, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5618785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppets/pseuds/Poppets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my response to a drabble challenge from Polar Attraction back in 2007. The prompt was 'Tickle'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickle

Liz smirked, her prey was in sight. His long body stretched across the lounge, feet dangling off the end. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of his feet still encase in heavy, black docs. Liz swore under her breath. This was going to make things very hard.

She took a deep breath and crept to the edge of the lounge. Kneeling down she carefully started to unlace one of his boots, watching his face anxiously for any sign that he was waking. With the laces undone she slowly tugged the boot from his foot. Next came the sock, which she rolled down his foot agonisingly slowly. She breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't stir.

Finally she was confronted with her target. With an evil smirk she picked up the feather and swept it along the underside of his foot. He twitched, but didn't wake.

She did it again, this time rewarded with a frown as he tried to shake off whatever was disturbing him, but still he didn't wake.

She did it again and watched as his eyes snapped open.

"Liz?"

She smirked and brandished the feather.

His eyes widened in alarm. "Please, no."

"Oh, yes," she said and began to torment his foot with the feather.

"Ah, Liz. Please stop," he laughed. "I can't take anymore."

"Nuh-uh. Not until you say what I want to hear."

Michael grit his teeth. He refused to say the words.

"Don't say it and the torture will only get worse." She'd managed to get his other boot and sock off and was attacking his foot with her fingers.

Michael could feel himself caving under her devious fingers. Anything to make her stop. "I am your love slave, Mistress Liz," he ground out.

Liz arched an eyebrow at him, "And don't you forget it!" She let go of his feet and burst out laughing.

"You're evil," Michael scowled, quickly pulling his feet as far away from her as possible.

"I'll make it up to you," she said. "But only if you can catch me." She threw him a saucy wink and darted towards their bedroom.

She laughed when he growled and came thundering down the hallway after her.

She would always treasure the day he'd admitted he had ticklish feet.

End.


End file.
